Chapter 49 50

Chapter 49: On Death's Doorstep

The world never stops for the death of a single soul, whether it be a president, a superstar, or... a paparazzi.

But clearly, Lowell Lockheed didn't see it that way. To him, if his life were to end, then the world might as well cease to exist.

Indeed—so long as I am alive, I must wield power; and after my death, even if the earth were to be destroyed, it would matter not.

Such individuals are, in fact, the most fearful inside, dreading death, loss, and the unknown. Unfortunately, death does not shift its course for the will of man. Its stride is ever steady, its frequency unchanging.

Lying on the hospital bed, Lowell gradually sank into despair. Despite completely setting aside his ego and personally calling Bruce three times in an attempt to persuade or even plead, the responses he received remained vague and non-committal. The tone was always so neutral, impossible to discern any emotion, leaving him baffled.

Under normal circumstances, Lowell would have been convinced that the other party was simply holding out for a better offer, all just negotiation tactics.

But now, Lowell's mind was no longer clear, even experiencing moments, long or short, where he would drift into a stupor, seeing flashes of dim light before his eyes yet feeling as though engulfed in emptiness, occasionally accompanied by the sound of a choir singing.

This bizarre state did not bring relaxation to Lowell. He seemed to have seen the Grim Reaper, scythe in hand, standing by his bed, waiting to reap, while he was powerless to resist.

In his lucid moments, Lowell Lockheed still refused to give up. Desperately brainstorming for a way to treat himself, to prolong his life, willing to give everything, yet rarely coming to any effective conclusion. Most of the time, these thoughts were interrupted by sudden lapses into confusion, and then… there was no after.

He realized that his memory was beginning to blur, his brain becoming muddled.

He was waiting to die.

In such times, Lowell sadly discovered that all his towering power and wealth were utterly useless, the grand Lockheed Towers, the luxury cars, and private jets meaningless. The company's old guard? They probably wished he would die slower.

Especially Marlene Hewson, that bitch, probably already preparing to pop champagne. As for his family? It seemed like ages since he last saw them, ever since he berated his younger son until he was blue in the face, leading him to move to Philadelphia and never return.

However, this time Charles seemed ready to notify them. Notify them of what? To wait for his death?!

Lowell wanted to curse out loud, but when he barely managed to open his mouth, all that came out were a series of meaningless sounds, along with a dribble of saliva at the corner of his mouth. The pretty nurse on duty merely glanced over at the IV and the monitors, noticing nothing amiss. Then, with a flicker of disgust in her eyes, she lowered her head and continued to play with her phone.

Lowell, of course, recognized this nurse. When you're lying in bed all day, you have plenty of time to observe the people around you, even if they seemed less significant than dust in your eyes.

This nurse, Valerie Saet, appeared to be of Spanish-French descent, young, beautiful, and lively, generally well-behaved, except for a couple of times she made minor mistakes and was scolded until she cried.

Now, this woman couldn't care less to give him a second glance, utterly fearless. Probably thinking this old man beside her was close to death anyway, incapable of punishing her.

This feeling enraged Lowell, the accumulated fear and resentment nearly igniting him, yet still unable to change any bit of his dire situation, for soon he drifted off again into a daze.

According to natural laws, Lowell would exhale his last breath in about ten to fifteen days, maybe a tad longer, lying on the hospital bed. Many would be present then—his lawyers, family, and subordinates, outwardly solemn and mournful, inwardly feeling relieved as they watched his body slowly grow cold.

After a grand, luxurious, and highly attended funeral, his body would be carefully placed in an exquisite coffin for burial. About 15 days after death, his soft tissues would have completely decomposed, disintegrated, collapsed, and digested, leaving behind nothing but a pale skeleton, alongside the epitaph on his tombstone to prove that Lowell Lockheed—a once mighty figure, had existed.

That was all.

I want to live! Lowell roared countless times in his mind, hoping for a miracle.

After who knows how long, Lowell regained a bit of consciousness. He weakly opened his eyes, faintly hearing the pitter-patter of rain. It seemed to be pouring outside, the sound of raindrops falling on the glass, and the damp breeze

blowing in, making the already frail Lowell feel even colder, as if it penetrated his bones, stinging and freezing him.

By then, Charles Campbell had already rested. He would usually appear in the morning and then spend most of the day by his side. After all, he wasn't made of iron and couldn't stay awake 24 hours.

"Ah…"

With no hope for his loyal servant, Lowell tried to speak, to ask nurse Valerie to close the glass doors of the balcony, to make himself a bit more comfortable, but he struggled to form coherent words. In the end, he could only slightly lift his arm, hoping to catch her attention. His vision was blurred, striving to discern the surroundings through his hearing, yet no sound came for a long time.

That damned bitch, I should have strangled her! Just when Lowell was in agony, ready to give up, a magnetic male voice suddenly rang out: "We meet again, Mr. Lockheed."

Lowell's wrinkled eyelids trembled as they opened, his dim eyes suddenly bursting with a brightness not seen for a long time. Even at this last gasp, he recognized the voice.

Bruce Lee!

You finally came…

Lowell widened his eyes, looking at the long-awaited figure approaching his bed, unable to see the neatly dressed suit and the faint smile on his face clearly. But he was certain it was that young man.

"You seem even weaker than I imagined, Mr. Lockheed. I can almost smell the decay." Bruce clicked his tongue as Ray Stein dragged over a chair, sitting down casually beside the motionless nurse at the bed, having used a little trick to make sure the girl wouldn't interrupt their conversation.

But it hardly counted as a conversation anymore, since Lowell, on death's door, could barely stay conscious, let alone speak. So Bruce didn't wait for an answer, but continued on his own: "Let me guess, your only wish right now is for me to take you to my lab and use the best treatment to control your condition?"

Lowell Lockheed blinked desperately, even trying to lift his neck to show his eagerness, his worn-out patience and hope reignited, yet also fearful of potentially more cruel news.

Bruce nodded, indicating he got the message.

"To be frank, my lab does have some insights into treating cancer. Even at your severe stage, there's a decent chance of recovery. But—"

The turn in his speech sent a chill down Lowell's spine.

"Even if the treatment works, improving your condition, so what? To have you lie in bed a little longer? Barely able to walk? Forgive my bluntness, Mr. Lockheed. You're old and frail, tired from just a few steps, not to mention the finer things and pleasures long gone from your reach. How long has it been since you've tasted a woman? Like this beautiful girl beside me, you can only dream, and even those dreams have faded, haven't they? So, you see, even if your condition is controlled, to live a few more months, years, or longer, what of it? Human life is fragile and brief, a natural law you cannot defy. So, I see no point in wasting resources on you."

Lowell Lockheed wanted to object, but he couldn't speak, more so because he knew Bruce spoke nothing but the truth. He was old, and even without the torment of illness, wouldn't live much longer. But he was still not ready to give up. He wanted to tell him that there were other pleasures to enjoy, his endless wealth and the power feared by the world. He wasn't ready to let go, even a few more days would be good.

He didn't want to die.

Thus, Lowell's eyes nearly bulged out in their sockets, his cloudy eyes almost protruding, gaining a semblance of strength in a return of light, suddenly grabbing Bruce's arm, while his lips quivered, trying to form words, finally managing to utter a few muffled words: "I... want... to live..."

Bruce didn't stop him, letting this sunset emperor clutch at his arm like it was the last lifeline, watching calmly until the last bit of strength faded, and Lowell's arm reluctantly fell. Only then did Bruce stand, his face revealing a strange smile:

"Oh? Want to live? That's good. But nothing in this world is free, and survival is the most precious resource. Let's assume, if—I have a way to completely cure your illness, even making you immune to other diseases, healthier and stronger than average, your skin no longer wrinkled, muscles full of elasticity, better than your youngest and most vigorous days, stronger than any human, aging and time no longer threats. Tell me, what price are you willing to pay, Mr. Lockheed?"

Lowell Lockheed felt insulted and mocked, Bruce's words a pile of nonsense, mocking him. His chest heaved, eyes bloodshot, panting heavily. Had his condition not been so severe, he likely would have slapped Bruce, making this nonsensical young man beg for forgiveness.

Bruce ignored his anger, straightening the wrinkles on his clothes, looking down at Lowell: "Think, think, don't let emotions rule you. Mr. Lockheed, was it you who bribed my researchers, sent people to steal my data? Was it you stirring things up behind the scenes, bribing the media to strike at me? Was it you who spent a fortune hiring mercenaries to ambush me? Why did none of it work? You don't think it's just because I'm lucky?"

Lowell's eyes darted around; Bruce's words were the questions he'd been pondering. The opponent had handled everything too well, even making Black Nest, a professional robbery company, back off.

He suddenly remembered many details he'd overlooked before, like how Bruce managed to bypass the heavy security of the building and silently enter his room? This place had military-grade security measures.

Could the other party really have some special ability? He was puzzled.

Bruce stretched his hand towards where Ray was, Lowell's gaze followed, suddenly seeing a terrifying, non-human black monster standing silently before him. Through the dim light, he could feel the strange rhythm and an unprecedented majesty.

He didn't know what it was, but it certainly wasn't human.

Lowell's pupils contracted sharply, sweat beads rolling down his forehead

, his mind flashing back to snippets of information about monsters reportedly collected by the military, so they were all true...

"This world is far more complicated than you think, Mr. Lockheed. Are you willing to submit to me, to become part of a higher existence?" Bruce spread his arms, adopting a welcoming pose, knowing the other had no choice, just a slight nudge needed to break through that nearly non-existent defense.

Lowell couldn't control his fear of this terrifying phenomenon, his body shaking violently, almost falling into a stupor.

"I'm disappointed, Mr. Lockheed." Bruce shook his head, continuing with his cold words to torment the poor old man. "I thought you were smart. But you surprised me, it seems you haven't fully realized, the threat of death isn't enough for you. So, should we leave? I'm afraid you won't have the chance to see us again."

Lowell snapped back to reality, his confused mind struggling.

Bruce lowered his voice, speaking as if from the deepest part of the world: "Think about it, beauties, wealth, power, all will return to you, along with strength far beyond the ordinary. In comparison, how fragile is the human body. We—are the future."

Lowell, as if lost in the wonderful scenario described, moaned slightly and closed his eyes in a daze...

Chapter 50: Rebirth

The night deepened, but the torrential rain outside the window showed no signs of abating, instead growing fiercer. The wind howled, and the rain fell in sheets, blurring the line between heaven and earth into a vast expanse of white. The entire city of New York was enveloped in a curtain of rainwater.

"This morning, the hurricane that made landfall in North Carolina is wreaking havoc along the east coast of the United States. So far, it has resulted in at least 17 deaths, including 5 children. In the northeastern United States, from North Carolina to Boston, Massachusetts, over 8,000 weekend flights have been canceled due to Hurricane Sherry, affecting potentially over a million passengers..."

The massive flat-screen TV was broadcasting the latest news, clearly showing the chaos the hurricane and the subsequent heavy rains had brought to the East Coast, with New York suffering greatly.

Valerie Saet moaned softly, slowly lifting her head, moving her arm that had gone numb.

When had she fallen asleep?

Confused for a moment, she shook her head and rubbed her eyes, only to realize the hospital bed in front of her was empty!

The old man she was attending had long been in a state of barely hanging on, it was impossible for him to get out of bed. Valerie jumped to her feet in panic, even knocking the chair behind her to the ground. She didn't care about Lowell's reactions because his mind was no longer clear, and there was no worry of him complaining. But if something happened while she was on duty, Charles, the supervisor, would never let her off the hook.

Valerie hurriedly moved around, looking everywhere in the spacious office, which was eerily silent and empty.

This only made her more nervous until she approached the floor-to-ceiling window. Only then did she faintly hear the strange, low sounds coming from the balcony amidst the raging storm. She hurried over, barely making out a figure standing in the rain, and though the water obscured her vision, she recognized it as Lowell from his white hospital gown.

"What are you doing? Sir, come back inside!" Valerie stumbled to the glass door, pushing it open only to be met with a blast of wind-driven rain, quickly soaking her blouse and hair.

Shielding her forehead with her hands, she finally saw Lowell Lockheed standing in the storm, head thrown back, letting out beast-like roars. This bizarre scene tightened her chest, fearing it might be his last rally of strength.

Hearing her voice, Lowell stopped and turned, stepping steadily out of the rain to stand in front of Valerie. His thin hospital gown was completely soaked, clinging to his body, revealing the clear contours of his muscles, which surprised Valerie, making her cover her mouth and back away in shock.

Having suffered from prolonged illness, Lowell's body had become frail and withered. As a nurse, Valerie often helped him bathe, knowing every part of his body well. In her mind, Lowell could never have such a muscular and striking physique.

Water dripped down his wet hair and collar, but Lowell showed no intention of drying off. His eyes bulged, bloodshot, and he took another step forward, almost pressing against her.

"Sir..."

Valerie felt uneasy, forced to step back again, unsure of what to say as everything was far beyond her expectations.

"Ah, my Valerie."

Lowell's throat bobbed, and he slowly raised his hands, feeling the strength in his body and the vitality that had returned, even more astonishing and far beyond imagination. He felt that every movement could unleash tremendous power, enough to easily extinguish the life of the fragile woman before him. This control over life and death intoxicated him completely.

"What's wrong with you... please, go back to bed..." Valerie struggled to form words, her mind in turmoil, unsure how to deal with the strangely transformed Lowell.

The man who appeared at least ten years younger snorted coldly: "You want me back on that bed? You think you and your incompetent fools can mock and look down on Lowell Lockheed?"

"No... I didn't mean that... Sir, it's your body..." Valerie began to sense that something was not right with his mentality, seemingly a bit deranged, completely lost in his own world, fearfully shaking her head in denial.

Lowell gently caressed Valerie's cheek, admiring the smooth, young skin, exclaiming, "Look at this youthful and tender body, how marvelous. Did you know, Valerie, I could become as young as you if I wished."

Mr. Lockheed has gone mad!

Valerie finally realized the situation, feeling a dangerous aura emanating from him. She forced a smile on her face, slowly backing away, planning to run and call for help, whether it be the security or anyone else, as facing this bizarre old man alone was far from ideal.

"Ah! Someone help!"

She let out a scream, thinking she was at a safe distance

to run, only to be caught by the quicker-moving Lowell, who pulled her back and clamped her mouth shut.

"What's the matter? My dear Valerie, where do you wish to go? After serving me for so long, you've never seen a strong, healthy master, have you?" Lowell drew the girl closer, kissing and nuzzling her cheek, eager to savor this long-lost sensation.

"What's wrong? You think I've gone mad? Hahahaha..." Seeing the panic and confusion on Valerie's face, understanding her thoughts as if they were the funniest thing in the world, he couldn't help but laugh out loud, hysterical and more liberated than ever before, finally calming down after a while.

"You're so adorable, Valerie. No, no, I haven't gone mad, I'm just reborn and extremely happy. Don't you share my joy?"

After saying that, Lowell pulled Valerie into his embrace. "Do you feel my strength?"

Valerie, like a rabbit caught in a trap, was filled with dread and fear, managing a faint smile and nodding desperately.

"Human, you are ignorant and dull." Lowell, seeing her forced cheerful expression, suddenly felt a wave of disgust and boredom, letting go. "I don't blame you; after all, you're like a tiny fish in a pond, never knowing how vast the world outside is. I was only slightly better than you once, but now I'm different, I'm reborn."

Lowell finally calmed down, showing a gentle and serene smile, speaking politely to the girl before him: "Sorry, Valerie, I scared you. I'm just too happy. Can you understand?"

Valerie, sensing his change in mood, gradually relaxed, instinctively nodding.

"Then, let's celebrate properly." Lowell gently lifted her chin, leaning in to kiss her freely, savoring the sweet fragrance of the young girl.

Poor Valerie didn't dare to resist, tears still in her eyes, resigned to standing still, compliant as a tamed lamb.

Lowell's hand went into the collar of her coat and groped roughly towards the Lowell's hand went into the collar of her coat and groped roughly towards the boob.

Valerie tried to resist at first, but gave in when she thought of the old man's power and wealth.

"Valerie. Nice." He said. He could clearly see her white bra. "And already too small for these tits."

He palmed her breasts, one than the other, giving her sizable chest a squeeze, fingertips digging into soft, pliable flesh.

Valerie exhaled sharply. Her nipples sharply puckered under his molesting palm.

Lowell groped at Valerie's bare breasts. Squeezing her exposed flesh, pinching her nipples, digging in his fingertips.

"Suck my cock," Lowell commanded.

Valerie obediently turned and bent her knees, pulled down his pants, fought back the disgust in her heart and opened her mouth.

Lowell let out a soft moan as he felt Valerie's wet lips envelop the swollen head of his dick.

Valerie began thrusting her head back and forth, taking in as much of his cock as she could.

"Mmm, feels good, baby." old man said. Her mouth suctioned on his cock like a baby bird enjoying a tasty worm.

"Put your ass up and lie on the railing." The old man gave the order again, and Valerie obediently complied.

Without another word, he pulled down her panties, until they dangled from one ankle. Lifting her, wedging his body between her pale, milky thighs.

His cock was hard, searching insistently for her tiny slit. When he found it, he rammed upward, skewering Valerie on his hard cock.

Lowell began to pound hard, drilling deep inside her pliant body. His hands cupped her ass, holding her up as he jabbed with brutal intent inside her silky hole.

His only interest in banging her hard and fast until he came—which wouldn't be long.

This is a tribute to his rebirth.